


Grails and dragons

by AnadoraBlack



Series: The Lady of Avalon series [3]
Category: Merlin (TV), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Magic, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnadoraBlack/pseuds/AnadoraBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seren and Galahad are Camelot's last chance to defeat the witch Circé. They embark on a quest to find the mighty Grail, and their journey leads them to the Enchanted Forest, and to Seren's past...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**1\. Sorcerers and knights**

* * *

The sun was high, very high in the sky when Seren deigned get out of bed. It was usual for her to stay up at night and down during most of the day.

The sole thing that made her get up earlier than 3pm was the tower bell indicating an attack of sorts.

She sighed deeply before getting dressed, not even flinching when the door to her room bolted open.

“Morning, Gad.”

Seren heard a sigh before a tall, dark-haired young man with coffee-toned skin entered her sight. “You'll have to tell me how do it one day, Ren.”

She chuckled.

She had known Galahad her whole life – he was technically born merely two years after her – and many considered them siblings.

But when she was gazing at him and at his blue, blue eyes, Seren really didn't think of him as a brother...

“What is it this time?”

The Knight shrugged. “Probably another group of Saxons come to steal food. Father will take care of it.”

Seren nodded. There indeed wasn't anyone who could resist Lancelot's blade. Not even her mother did.

Or so he said. She had never known her, after all.

* * *

It appeared it was far worse than mere Saxons this time.

Or Sir Percival wouldn't have come fetch his nephew and niece himself.

“Uncle Percy? What is it?”

The giant knight shook his head. “No time to explain. The Queen requests your presence now.”

Seren's brow furrowed, but Galahad grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her out the door. “Come. If Mother calls for us this officially, things must be grave indeed.”

* * *

Seren and Galahad took no detour to reach the throne-room. They were used to every passage-way, but today, as knight and ward of the Queen, they had to walk in the light.

Gad wore his blood-red cloak, golden lion embedded on the cloth, and Seren wore a chainmail they said had been her mother's, Fang, another token of her lost presence, dangling at her belt.

They were greeted by Sir Ywain, one of the youngest additions of the Round Table, and one of Seren's personal friends – if someone she kept kicking the ass of could really be considered a friend.

The young knight brought them to the throne-room, where the Queen Guinevere was sat, her Captain and consort Sir Lancelot sitting at her side.

The Round Table was full safe for two seats: the former king Arthur's, which had remained empty since his passing, and the Siege Perilous, one strange chair that no one could sit on if they didn't wish to perish in the instant.

Galahad went to sit by his father, as his reserved place, while Seren stood before the Queen, facing her father's chair now occupied by Sir Gareth, an older yet dashing knight.

* * *

Guinevere was as pretty as ever, her coffee-toned skin highlighted by her red dress, and the wrinkles around her eyes the only sign that time ever passed at all.

She gestured Seren forward. “Seren, daughter of the Lady Knight and Sir Gwaine, I have summoned you here today because on this morning of this year, the twentieth of your birth, something has come to pass. Something that I was told would pass.”

Seren's brow furrowed. “I fear I do not understand, my lady.”

“We received a visitor. One we had not seen for a long time. He has come to meet you, and you alone.” She paused, then gazed at the whole table. “His name is Sir Mordred.”

The knights gasped around the table, as did Seren.

Her green eyes widened. “My uncle?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, my mother's brother's here?”

Guinevere nodded again. “He is waiting for you in my chambers. Meanwhile, we are to address an important matter he has brought upon us.”

Seren knew when she was asked to leave, she had been raised by this woman, and now was her cue.

And as much as she was trembling like a leaf, she had to face that man, that uncle she had never met, and learn whatever truth he had decided had to wait until she was twenty of age.

* * *

Gwen's rooms were one of the many Seren knew by heart. She had been raised at the Queen's side, as if she had been her daughter – and really, it was fitting since she was her god-daughter – and barely ever left the room until she was of age to be impatient and impulsive and Lancelot had to teach her how to use a sword to canalise her energy.

She didn't knock – really, why should she? – and entered the rooms at once.

Surely, there was a figure standing at the window. Jet black curls fell to the stranger's shoulders and onto the darkened scales of his chainmail. A sword was at his belt, but he made no gesture to grab it, instead outstretching a hand at his side and muttering something between his breath.

Seren felt as if hot water was spilt upon her, as if a strong summer wind had engulfed her, and then nothing.

The stranger turned around slowly, and Seren was met with a pair of the greenest eyes she had only seen in one place.

Her own face.

* * *

“Good morning, Seren. I am Mordred.”

Seren shook off her thoughts and managed to take an affronted pose, crossing her arms and glaring slightly. “I know who you are. _Uncle_.”

Mordred seemed amused if anything by her attitude. He smiled a little before turning back to the window. “I guess you are very angry that I'm only manifesting myself now. There is a reason. Perhaps one you sometimes suspected yourself...” He looked at her from under his lashes, and something strange happened.

Seren felt as if she had a headache, but not a deranging one. More like a subtle knock, as if...as if someone was asking for permission to enter.

She gave it, she thought she did at least, for right after, Mordred's voice echoed in her thoughts.

“I find it more appropriate and intimate to talk this way. I want to make sure no one hears us.”

Seren shook her head as if trying to get rid of it, and glared at him again. “What are you doing?” she said out loud.

“Speak in your mind and I will hear you. Only people with magical powers can converse this way. I am therefore certain no one else can listen to this conversation.”

Seren's eyes widened, and she answered silently. “I have magical powers? You have to be joking!”

Mordred chuckled, but only in her mind. “You must have heard the stories of your mother's abilities. Conjuring dragons, casting spells and curses. Surely Lancelot told you about that.”

“He did, but I never thought I had the same...abilities.”

“You don't. You are far more powerful than your mother. Or even me.”

“You are not making any sense. I've never used magic. Ever. So how could I be more powerful than a Dragonlord?”

“You were born out of the most powerful of magic. True love.” Seren felt a small smile tugging at her lips, but she tried to push it away. Mordred still felt it. “You must believe me stupid, but it is the truth. As for never using magic before, you are wrong. When you were only a newborn, you used it around you. Changing the colours of cloaks, making it rain on people, making plants grow faster. Your mother told everyone it was her doing, but both her and I knew it was you.”

“I never used magic. And if I did at that time, I never did again.”

“And that's because your parents disappeared. Very traumatic for a child. Furthermore, you were raised by two people that ignored of your powers. They would not have enhanced them.”

Seren whirled around, her mind buzzing more with questions and unwanted informations than with the presence of that man inside her head. She grunted. “Did you come here only to tell me that I have magic? What, do you want to teach me or something?”

“No one can teach you. You are far too powerful to be taught. No, I came here because a new threat has arisen, and you are our only hope at defeating it.”

Seren laughed. “Oh, humour me. The same day, I learn that my dear mother left me more than her sword to remember her by, and that I must save the world. Great.”

“Not the world singular, Seren. The worlds plural.” She whirled around to meet his eyes again. “There are more than one realm, Seren. Your mother came from another, and lived in another yet for years. This threat I'm talking about is endangering all of them.”

“I'm listening. Which doesn't mean I'll accept your mission.”

He nodded. “Understood. A witch arose far north, for a while nameless. She came from another land, we ignored which one. Her powers are unlike any others we saw here in Camelot. Not even Emrys had that much power. Then, one of us managed to meet her and to come back alive. She calls herself Circé.”

“Circé? Is she a High Priestess like Lady Morgana?” She had heard so many stories about the great and terrible Morgana that she was the first person she thought about when evil was mentioned.

“No, she isn't. As I said, she's not from here. But she seeks something. Something that, unbeknownst to her, isn't in this realm anymore, but in the Enchanted Forest, the realm your mother was raised in.”

“What is that thing?”

“We call it the Grail. It is a tool powerful enough to annihilate any magical being that threatens the peace of Camelot and of the other realms. It is so powerful than long ago, it was hidden away in the Enchanted Forest.”

“And you'd wish for me to find it.”

“Yes. The druids have given you this task, should you accept it. You are born out of True love and therefore some curses can't harm you. You can wield a sword, and have the most powerful magic there ever was. So only you can defeat Circé, we are certain of it.”

“Guinevere said something about a matter you brought upon Camelot. Was that it?”

“A part of it. Circé intends to raid the lands in search for the Grail. She seems certain that Emrys disposed of it sometime ago, and Emrys lived here for a long time.” He paused. “I asked Guinevere and Lancelot to prepare the castle's defences. My brothers and I will help as much as we can, but only you, in the end, can save us.”

Seren sighed deeply. “Perfect. So not only am I the most powerful sorceress that ever lived, but I also am the saviour of all lands. My life couldn't have turned out better.”

“One last thing.” He walked to her, and his mind left hers, leaving her having to adjust to the emptiness it left. Mordred switched back to normal speech. “You can take Galahad with you.”

Seren didn't have time to ask why, for Mordred walked past her and to the door, exiting the room and dismissing their conversation.

* * *

It took her more than ten minutes to process what had been said.

She had magic. Fair enough.

She was the most powerful being in the land, because her mother and father were True loves. Fair enough.

She had to save all realms from a bitch called Circé. Fair enough.

And she had no idea whatsoever how to proceed.

Great.

* * *

There were moments when Seren felt like her parentage was more of a curse than a blessing. Moments like this one.

But as she hurried back to the Great Hall, where she was certain that Mordred had gone next, she felt another thing about that parentage, something she had hidden away for her darkest nights: abandon. Her mother had chosen to abandon her, and now here she was, not knowing what was asked of her and how she'd succeed, if she had any chance at all.

* * *

Mordred was standing behind the Siege Perilous when she arrived unnoticed.

All eyes were on the former knight and the revelation he had made.

About her, apparently, since Lancelot's eyes found hers and met her gaze with fear, worry and concern.

He was like her father in so many ways, and now, he was frightened for her life.

Galahad put a hand on his father's arm, gesturing him to pay attention to the druid.

* * *

“There is one last thing I must ask before Seren and her escort leave.” Mordred's green eyes met his niece's, then turned back to the assistance. “This is the day this chair,” he put his hands on the Siege Perilous, “is finally filled.”

There was a quick rumour around the table, one he was quick to silence.

“The Siege Perilous has been deadly to anyone who ever tried to sit in it. But you never knew why. I am to tell you of a prophecy that long existed and is about to be fulfilled.” He took a deep breath. “When King Arthur Pendragon created the Round Table, he also, unknowingly, started the course of actions that brought us here. For only his demise and Lady Morgana's could bring us to this day and this new foe. A new prophecy was then foretold by my people. The prophecy says that one chair of the Round Table shall always be unoccupied, for its rightful occupant shall be the one to find the Grail. And we now know who this will be.”

Seren gasped, thinking it be her, but then, Mordred spoke a name she had not expected to hear in such circumstances. “Sir Galahad.”

Lancelot stood up abruptly. “No, Mordred. You cannot ask that of my only son. You know what will happen if he sits on that chair. I won't let you.”

“Nothing will happen, Lancelot. I swear to you. Galahad is destined to find the Grail alongside Seren. He will sit in the Siege Perilous. Such is his destiny.”

Galahad stood, making his mother gasp in horror. “I do not believe in destiny. And only one person here can make me sit in that chair.” He turned to Seren, who met his blue eyes with stunning calm.

She walked around the table and stopped next to her uncle. Then she took a deep breath. “Queen Guinevere once told me of a tale. Of how King Arthur took Excalibur out of a rock because he believed he was the rightful king of Camelot.” Her eyes never left Galahad's. “If you believe you will find the Grail with me, you will sit in that chair and not die.”

Galahad nodded then slowly made his way around the table as well. Lancelot tried to stop him but the young knight soothed him with quiet words. Guinevere stood to kiss his brow and wish him luck, for Seren's words echoed in her.

And then, Galahad reached the chair. Mordred moved it back for him.

The knight reached for Seren's hand, and as carefully as if it was full of snakes, Galahad lowered himself onto the Siege Perilous.

* * *

And to everyone's amazement, he remained sat there as if he belonged.

 


	2. Dragon fire

**2\. Dragon fire**

 

* * *

A few days passed after those meaningful events.

Galahad, as appointed by Mordred, by then sat in the Siege Perilous at every meeting of the Round Table. His father had taken upon himself to train him by sword every day in preparation for his and Seren's quest.

A small community of druids had entered the city, occupying the courtyard of the castle as per Guinevere's agreement. She herself recognized many years prior that magic, when used for good reasons, was not a threat. She could be often seen among the families, talking with mothers, playing with children, for a time remembering when she still was that serving girl roaming the Lower Town.

Seren hid in her chambers for days, refusing any visitors, even Galahad.

* * *

The news of her magical parentage had taken quite a toll on her morale. She felt even more the feeling of abandon she often felt while thinking of her mother, a mother that had not loved her child enough to will to stay by her side.

She remained sat on her bed for hours on end, eyes locked to Fang in her lap, trying by all the means she could think of to find excuses for that person she missed and loathed at the same time.

A backpack laid on the table of her room, waiting to be filled by what would be necessary for her and Galahad's trip to wherever they'd go.

That too had taken a toll. Knowing she was the only hope not only of Camelot but also of all the realms that were. That she had a magic no one could counteract, even if she had never used it consciously before.

Now that she thought about it, Seren could remember moments of her early childhood when strange things had happened: a sword flying off Lancelot's grip while they playfully sparred, a horse calming down even without words being heard, even food coming out of nowhere on a cold night before the hearth.

Mordred was right. She had magic.

But she could not use it. Not anymore. Not as hard as she thought about it.

* * *

When the morning came when news of the witch arrived, Seren got up early and started to pack whatever she could think of.

An hour in, Guinevere joined her.

The Queen was visibly sad to see her protégée go, as her shaking hands could hint on. She occupied herself with packing Seren's clothes, a cloak for cold nights, as well as her bedroll, while the young woman took care of her healing necessities and the many arrows she'd need in her quiver.

When their deed was done, both women stopped in their tracks and eyed each other.

Gwen sighed deeply before reaching for Seren, pulling her to her arms to hug her tightly.

“I am so sorry.”

Seren closed her eyes, breathing in the flowery scent of her aunt. “Sorry for what? You've given me a home, a family, taught me everything you knew, were a mother in so many ways... You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Gwen hugged her even tighter, and chuckled through silent sobs. “I am sorry because I should have known you were magical. Your mother was so powerful... I should have known. And now you're leaving us, and you don't know... I'm so sorry.”

“I am sorry too... But you can't be. My uncle should be sorry. He could have stayed, taught me himself, instead of leaving to do whatever he did all these years...”

Gwen untangled herself from Seren, wiping her tears away. “He was away trying to find his sister. He left us and you to find her and bring her back home. When he found no trace, he tried to come back, but...he saw that you were too old already to remember and forgive him... Another thing I should have told you...”

Seren didn't answer right away, moved by her words.

So, at least one of her blood family had tried to remain by her side? Well, this changed nothing. She still had been far too lonely these last twenty years...

* * *

Seren moved to grab her backpack and leave the room, but Guinevere stopped her, a soft hand grabbing her arm.

“Wait, Seren, I... I have something to tell you that could help.”

Seren's eyes widened, their green evident in the sunlight. “I'm listening, of course.”

Gwen released her arm and went to stand by the window. “All these years ago, when Arthur died... Lancelot came to me with a news. He had roamed the forest in search for remaining Saxons and had stumbled upon...an old friend of your mother's. I have since granted him free passage through our land, and he's lived there ever since.” Her brown eyes met Seren's green once again. “Her dragon, Kilgharrah.”

Seren's brow furrowed. “Her dragon is still alive?”

“He is, though old and diminished. He cannot fly onto far journeys anymore, and therefore, he lives on the shores of the Lake of Avalon. Lancelot rides often to give him food on harsh seasons. They met on more than one occasion.”

“So, you'd want me to meet him? Why?”

“Your mother once told me that Kilgharrah was the one to awaken her magic. When she first came here, it was potent, but one night, she went to him, and he awakened it. Maybe he can awaken yours too. After all, you have her blood in your veins...”

“Unfortunately...” she answered in a whisper. Her eyes met her aunt's again. “On the shores of the Lake of Avalon, you say?”

“Yes. He says it is the only place that gives him solace and peace, as it still is magical.”

“Then I'll go to him. Maybe can ask him a couple of questions too...”

“Yes, maybe...” Gwen walked to her carefully, then drew her back in for another hug. “I will miss you so much, my darling...”

“And I you, Auntie. Promise me you'll survive anything that witch sends your way.”

“I promise.”

“And promise you'll take care of Uncle Lance.”

She chuckled. “I've always taken care of him, I'm not going to stop now...” Her eyes darkened with new tears. “You take care of my son.”

Seren nodded. “With my life.”

Gwen nodded, then released her, pushing her towards the door. “Go on. If you stay any longer, I'll never let you leave...”

Seren chuckled, kissed her aunt's cheek, and sauntered to the door, Fang in one hand, her bag in the other.

Ready for adventure.

* * *

She met Lancelot's  hug with more force than Gwen's.

If she had always considered the Queen her aunt, the Knight was closer to be her father than anyone else in the castle. Leaving his side would be the most difficult thing she ever had to do.

“Remember what I've told you, Seren. Your sword is an extension of your arm, your bow is-”

“The finger with which you release the arrow. I know.” She smiled faintly, her hand not leaving his arm. “Be careful.”

“You be careful. And take care of Gad.”

“I will.”

Lancelot's dark eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he brought her back into his arms for a last hug before he pushed her away and towards her horse. “Leave now. Go. Live. Fight. Love. And come back to us.”

Seren smiled again, although it did not reach her eyes, and climbed onto her saddle. She launched a last glance at her childhood home and family, before kicking Lightning's sides and leaving it...for a good long while.

Galahad followed close, his blue eyes dark with grief.

* * *

They rode for almost half a day before Seren couldn't bear the silence anymore.

She turned to her companion, who was still looking down at his hands, following her without so much as a thought, and sighed. “Gad... You need to cheer up.”

“How can I cheer up, Ren? I've just left my parents, perhaps forever. Maybe next time I walk into Camelot's walls, they'll be dead.”

Seren turned around again, hiding the tears forming in her own eyes. “You think I haven't thought about it? But this is why we're leaving. To make sure they won't die.”

“If you say so...”

And he remained silent once more.

* * *

Night fell, and they were still a good ten leagues away from the Lake.

Seren decided, as Galahad remained silent and grim, to stop for the night. She tied her horse to a tree branch close to a bush of edible leaves, and moved to place her bedroll onto a soft dirty ground.

As Galahad settled next to her in silence, she moved to gather twigs and branches to make a fire.

At last, the young knight got out of his stupor.

“You know, Father told me about the dragon. When I was younger.”

Seren, who was by then piling the wood and trying to set fire to it with her silex, raised a brow. “I don't think he ever told me about it.”

“He said that's partly thanks to him he was still alive.” Galahad's blue eyes met Seren's green as the flames started to crack up, and he carried on his story. “He told me of how he died once.”

Seren huffed. “No one dies 'once'. You die, end of. There is no dying more than once.”

“Father came back from the dead. He told me the whole story. I can't forget it. I thought it beautiful and still...horrible.”

She settled against a tree, and sighed. “Go on. You haven't told me half as enough.”

Galahad smirked a little in the firelight. “Once, the Veil between the worlds was torn apart. King Arthur, Emrys and Father went to mend it. Arthur willed to sacrifice himself for it, and Emrys to sacrifice himself for Arthur's sake. Father decided he would sacrifice himself for both his friends, and did it. He died.” He paused. “He says he doesn't really remember what it was like to die. He says he felt as if mere seconds had passed before he opened his eyes again and your mother was stooped above him.”

Seren's eyes widened. “My mother?”

Galahad nodded. “He told me that when he woke up that next time, Lily had brought him back from the dead by retrieving his soul. But that prior to that, a shadow of him had brought havoc on Camelot. The Lady Morgana had learnt that King Arthur wished to marry Mother, and she brought back to the living the only person she knew whom Mother loved before she did the king: Father.” He smiled a little. “She was right, in a sense. Mother and Father were caught kissing, and Arthur willed to kill them both, but your mother explained the whole ordeal, and Mother remained unscathed, and married the king eventually. He told me that Emrys wished to let him go back to the dead, but that Lily was fiercely against it.”

Seren sighed. “He was her best friend.”

“Yes. So, she went to her dragon and asked for a way to bring him back, and he gave her one. She gave Father back his soul in exchange for an old sick man's life, and ever since, he is alive and well.” He stopped, his eyes settled onto the flames.

Seren fiddled with her hands for a moment, then settled onto her bedroll, eyes onto the canopy of stars above her head. “I had never heard that story before...”

“I guess we will hear many more during this whole thing...”

“Perhaps. But I don't like the idea of learning how much of a hero she was...”

There was shuffling next to her, and then Galahad went to lie by her, his hand engulfing her own and entwining their fingers. “Forget her, Seren... You don't need a mother. You have Mother, and Father, and Uncle Percy...and me.”

Seren closed her eyes, unwilling to tell him how much she didn't think him family. Instead, she let the cracks of the wood burning lull her to sleep, and revelled in the feeling of Galahad close to her...

* * *

Morning came, and with it the last part of their journey to the Lake.

Seren had waken up to Galahad making breakfast with a small amount of bread and a cup of milk. The sight had made her smile. She could wake up to it every day until she died, for all that mattered...

But some things were not meant to be, and she knew perhaps with utmost certitude that this was one of those...

* * *

The Lake of Avalon was one of the few parts of the kingdom that Seren had never been to in all her life. Lancelot had deemed it too dangerous, and now she knew why.

She didn't know how she would have reacted years back if she had known her mother's dragon lived on its shores...

* * *

Galahad and her left their horses a good way from the lake and advanced carefully through the woods surrounding the area.

Seren, strangely enough, could feel as if her blood was boiling through her veins as she approached the place. But she did not know why, or cared for that matter.

They erupted on the shore of the lake, a beautiful, peaceful lake, still with the lack of wind.

Seren loved the place at once.

There was a shuffling to their left and Galahad drew out his sword at once. But his blue eyes widened at the sight he was given, and Seren followed his gaze, her own green eyes widening.

A dragon.

* * *

Kilgharrah was named the Great Dragon in many tales that she had either read or heard of during her childhood, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight he gave her.

A huge, graceful beast with golden eyes and mated grey scales, lying down on the sand, his paws carefully put one upon the other. And he was staring at his visitors.

“You are not Lancelot.”

Galahad was gaping like a child, and didn't bring his sword down until Seren put a hand on his and pushed it down herself.

She swallowed hard before taking a pace forward. The dragon followed her, and she could swear that he was smiling. How could a dragon smile? “I am Seren. Daughter of-”

“I know who you are, Seren, daughter of the Lady Knight and Gwaine the Brave.” His eyes turned to Galahad. “And you, son of Lancelot and Guinevere.” He bowed his head gracefully. “I am honoured to meet you both at last.”

Galahad walked so he was back beside Seren, and cleared his throat. “Uh, I would say it is an honour to meet you, Great Dragon. We have heard so much about you...”

“Yes, I guess you have. Although, you are not here merely to meet me. Are you, young ones?”

Seren sighed. “Our Queen has told me you could perhaps help me.” The dragon's eyes widened as if curious, and she took it as her cue to go on. “I'm supposed to have magic, but it seems it is blocked.”

Kilgharrah's head leaned forward, and if Seren thought about taking a few paces back, something glued her on place, something clearly not natural. He leaned forward until his snout touched her chest, then leaned back. “Yes, it seems your magic has not evolved since the parting of your parents. But I cannot help.”

Seren let her gaze fall, hiding her annoyance. “We thought that, as I have the blood of your Dragonlord-”

“I know what you thought. But I cannot help. Your magic is present in you, and wished only to get out. You and you alone can break the lock you have put on it.”

“You are talking nonsense.”

Kilgharrah huffed. “It will make sense eventually. Now, I believe you are headed for the Enchanted Forest.”

Galahad, who had remained silent during the exchange, stepped forward. “Yes, we are. Do you know how we can go there?”

“I do. This Lake has always been a portal between the realms. I will open it for you. But know this, both of you: do not lose yourself during your journey. Lose yourself, and Camelot is doomed.”

Seren felt as if his words were more for her than for Galahad, but didn't say. Instead, she bowed her head. “Thank you for helping.”

“I have always had Camelot's fate at heart. Besides, your parents have always been valuable friends. I owe them a lot.” He leaned to his left and blew heavily onto the waters of the lake, which started to bubble as if boiled.

On the centre of the lake, a maelstrom formed, and soon, a portal was opened.

Galahad bowed to the dragon before heading to the water, walking to it then in it without so much as an hesitation.

Seren looked back at the dragon one last time.

He held her gaze, then leaned down so his eyes were levelled with hers. “One last thing, young one. You hold many regrets, fears and most of all anger in your heart. Don't let it change your course.”

She hated how he spoke in riddles, and hoped it would someday, hopefully not long from there, make sense. So she nodded and joined Galahad into the lake.

The waters were freezing, but as her hand closed around her companion, Seren didn't fear.

She wished for answers, and something told her she would get them were she was going.


	3. The unknown

**3\. The unknown**

* * *

The portal closed behind the two soaked travellers.

Seren whirled around, assessing her surroundings. They had landed on a road, in the middle of woods that didn't look that different from Camelot's.

Galahad's teeth were gritted as if he was preventing himself from shivering with cold, and Seren nodded. “We'd better get dry before we go on.” She moved around as if to gather twigs, but the characteristic sound of hooves stopped her.

Without thinking, she drew her bow and notched an arrow, glancing around her shoulder to see Galahad ready, sword in hand.

* * *

Two horses entered their sight, their riders stopping upon seeing them, then quietly and carefully approaching.

“We do not wish you harm.” The first rider said, a man. His hands were held up, and as he got closer, Seren noticed how he seemed somehow familiar, although she did not know why.

The second rider was a woman, and both were not older than thirty.

As they jumped off their saddle, Seren decided they did not look dangerous, and put her bow down, gesturing Galahad to do the same with his sword.

“Are you lost?”

Seren's eyes fell to the woman: tall, with kind hazel eyes and long brown hair that flowed down her back. By the way she was standing close to the man, her hand hovering over his, she guessed they were at least lovers.

Galahad nodded next to her. “We've just arrived. Through a portal.”

The man's grey eyes widened. “A portal? Where are you coming from. Camelot?”

Seren's brow furrowed. “How do you know?”

“My aunt was from Camelot. Sort of. It's complicated. Well, if you are from Camelot, you have to come back to the castle with us, by all means!” He looked over to the woman who nodded frantically. He then walked to Seren and outstretched a hand. “My name is Henry.”

The name moved something deep within Seren's mind, but she brushed it past. “My name is Seren, and this is Galahad.”

“ _Galahad?_ Cool!” She didn't know why his name was so 'cool', but guessed she'd know at one point anyway. “This is my wife, Grace.”

The woman – Grace – smiled. “I can ride with Henry. You can have my mare. The castle isn't far, and she is a darling.”

Neither of the newcomers dared ask anything about that mysterious castle they were headed to.

Not that they cared either way.

* * *

The journey to said castle was short-lived at high-speed, and as they entered the deepest part of the woods and were in sight of it, Galahad, riding behind Seren, gasped.

“This doesn't look like Camelot at all...”

She shook her head. No, it didn't.

The towers were like shards of glass piercing the sky, and the walls were the palest grey she had ever seen, as if the whole castle was made of sea stone.

Henry caught them gaping, and smiled. “I know, it's beautiful, isn't it? It's my mother's. And grandmother's. As I said: complicated.”

* * *

They were welcomed by a bunch of guards clad in white armour, who greeted them with many a 'Prince Henry' and 'Princess Grace'.

Seren caught their guide's wrist as he entered the castle, stopping him. “You're the Prince?”

“Yes, I am. But that's not important. Come, I have to let you meet my family!”

Grace walked to him, entwining their hands, and Seren felt a pang of jealousy pierce her heart as Galahad followed her, as far from taking her hand as could be...

* * *

The great hall was made of marble, and magnificent in the sunlight, and the first thing that Seren noticed upon entering was how many people were standing around the huge table. By the way they were all engrossed in talk and smiling to each other, she could not imagine the Queen or King upon those people.

She was wrong.

Henry went right to a group of six people, three couples, standing a little astray from the others, then pointing to them.

A tall, blonde, almost grey-haired man then waved his hands in the air to ask for silence, and cleared his throat. “Quiet, all! Henry has brought us guests. Seren, and Galahad, from Camelot.”

There was a rumour running through the whole group, and Seren wondered if these people had ever visited, or had ever known her mother, so they knew so much of her birthplace.

She was shaken off her thoughts by the same blonde man, waving them forward. “Come, let's meet!” She took Galahad's hand and walked to them, shaking a little as everyone's gaze was upon her.

Not that she wasn't used to it, but usually, all that looked at her knew her and weren't trying to pry her secrets off her by a simple stare...

* * *

“I am Prince Charming, although most here call me David. And this is my wife, Snow White.” He gestured to the dark-haired woman at his side. “And this is our daughter and son-in-law, Emma, and Killian.”

Seren's eyes widened at the sight of the hook the dark-haired man was adorning instead of a hand, but didn't say anything. It struck her too that their 'daughter' looked the same age as them, but it wasn't like her to be ask. Gwen had raised her better than this.

Apparently, Galahad had forgotten his raising. “Sorry to ask, and I'm sure you must hear this a lot, but...your daughter-”

“Looks to be the same age as us, yes.” Snow White walked forward, a kind smile on her lips. “Time has been frozen for us for twenty-eight years, while Emma grew up without us. Should you spend more time with us, you'd know the whole story.”

“Story...book. I heard something about this.” Seren's eyes closed, as if trying to relive a memory. “Lancelot told me about it... How they went to another realm to help fight an army...an army-”

“Of cards. Yes, we were not here, though. We were yet in another realm. So, you are acquainted with Lancelot?” It was the woman Emma, who had spoken, her fingers squeezing her husband's as if he was reliving some unlikely memory.

Galahad nodded. “Lancelot is my father. You know him?”

“We've known him...briefly. As we did Lily, Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Merlin, Arthur and Guinevere.”

Snow chuckled. “Without forgetting Kilgharrah.”

“Yes, the dragon.” Emma shivered. “I always try to forget about that beast.”

Seren sighed. “Then you have been lucky. Lily and Gwaine were my parents, although I never had the chance to know them.”

David's brow furrowed. “Were? Are they-?”

“My father died a little after my birth. As for my mother...”

Galahad squeezed her hand. “She is dead too. My parents raised her as their own. Lancelot and Guinevere are my parents.”

“Guinevere was promised to Arthur when they left...”

“Long story.”

“Well...,” David smiled, “I guess we'll have quite the stories to tell around diner tonight! Now, for the rest of the presentations,” he gestured towards the rest of the group, which had remained away from them as they spoke. “You already met Emma's son, Henry. His wife, Grace, is Jefferson's daughter, here,” he gestured to a man with an horrible scar around the neck, but who was smiling kindly, “and this is Regina, the Queen, and her husband, Robin. Robin's son, Roland, is over there. And of course, Emma and Killian's son, Liam, and our own daughter, Hope.”

All the while, Seren was trying to compute the names and faces of this whole grand family, and felt as if she had traded a complicated situation for another.

But thankfully, after he was done introducing them to the whole court, David asked for two pages to bring their guests to two spare rooms so they could rest before diner.

Of course, as they were not really brother and sister, they were put in different chambers, but Seren didn't mind. She really didn't mind.

* * *

Later, as she eyed the collection of dresses in her wardrobe, Seren felt cornered. She was in an unknown realm, in an unknown castle, about to have diner with unknown people. And this didn't bring her one step closer to finding the Grail...

She sighed, falling back onto the huge and soft bed, and closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift.

The sun had started to set and the room was getting darker, yet no one came to light the candles.

So Seren stood, and tried to find matches or any other means of lighting them, her fingers hovering over one candlestick.

It was there, just under her fingertips, some kind of pulsing, like the beating of a second heart, and Seren gasped at the candle lit itself.

She took a step back, looking at her hand as if she had just murdered a child, and in that second, all the candles of the room lit at once.

Seren gasped again, not believing she had been the one to do that, but it was evident in the way her skin hummed under her fingertips as if they had been warmed by the light of the fire.

A soft knock on her door made her jump and shake off her disturbing thoughts and found – although uncontrollable – magic.

* * *

She opened the door, revealing a tall, lean woman with long, flowing dark hair that she remembered had been standing next to Grace's father in the hall. She was named Red, she remembered.

She tried a small smile. “Yes? Can I help?”

The woman – Red, smiled back. “Snow thought that maybe you'd need help with the dress. She can recognize a woman that's not used to wear a corset from a mile back.” She let out a little chuckle. “Can I come in?”

Seren let her push past her, a little shy and surprised at the kindness of this Princess. “It is very nice of you...”

“Nonsense. I did this countless times before for Emma. I don't know if you noticed, but she doesn't like dresses. At all...” Seren nodded. She had noticed how the princess looked uneasy in her garments, as if forced into it. “Now...to compliment your eyes, I should be able to find something green-aha!”

Red pulled back from the wardrobe, a long, flowing, silken dress in her hands.

Seren shook her head. “I will look hideous in that...”

“You would never look hideous in anything, not with that face of yours. Now come here. Let's help you in it.”

She let the stranger help her dress, help her put this horrible thing that was called a corset, then the dress, as light as a feather, then green velvet shoes to match the look.

Next, Red had her sit on the bed, and came back from the adjoined bathroom with a hairbrush.

* * *

“It's such a shame you are not aware of your own appeals...”

It had been said as quiet as a whisper, and Seren had to look over her shoulder to realise that Red had indeed been talking to her. “Excuse me?”

“How old are you? If that isn't too much prying...”

“I am twenty.”

“And you have spent twenty years dressing in tunics and chainmails as a man and never took time to look at yourself in a mirror?” Seren shook her head lightly. “A shame. As I said. Fortunately for you, I am a wonder maker. You'll look stunning after I'm done with you.”

“Thank you. I've never...been...cared for in that way before.”

Red smiled, Seren seeing it in her reflection in the glass of the window. “Then it is about time.” She took a deep breath. “I never knew my mother either, you know. Met her when I was twenty-five. Briefly. Before she died. I could never forgive her for abandoning me, but...I still was sad.”

Seren knew that she had read through the lines, through Galahad's lie that her own mother was dead. But she did not answer.

“There. All done. And far better. Come, look at yourself.”

* * *

Seren stood in the mirror, looking at two strangers. The first was a tall, dark-haired woman with streaks of grey in her hair and a few wrinkles around her eyes. The second was a woman clad in a green dress hugging her forms in all the right places, highlighting the shade of her eyes, the sole thing that you could see in her round face.

“So, what do you think?”

Seren let out the breath she had been holding. “I am...beautiful. Thank you, Miss Red.”

The woman chuckled. “One rule, darling. Here, I am Red. No 'Miss'.”

Seren smiled. “Thank you.” She knew what it meant, to ask people to call you by your birth name rather than with terms of respect before it. “Then, please call me Seren. Or Ren. That's how friends call me.”

“Will do. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a husband to return to, and with this scar of his, I have to talk him out of wearing a scarf at any given moment.”

Seren nodded and smiled again.

That's how she learnt that Red was married to Jefferson. And really, couldn't that family get more twisted?

 


	4. News

**4\. News**

* * *

“So, as I understand it, this witch, _Circé_ , is looking for something that is hidden here somewhere?”

Seren nodded, looking over at David on her left.

She had been sat on the Prince's right, while his wife sat facing her. Galahad was next to her, and along the long, insanely long table, was spread the rest of the Charmings – as she heard it said once or twice.

“Or so we have been told. This is why we have been sent here, anyway.”

“And why you? Might I ask?”

Seren's eyes met Emma's a few places down the table. She sighed. “It appears we have assets that others don't. Galahad is a Knight of the Round Table, and being the son of his father, one of the best.” Her friend blushed a little but didn't say anything. She carried on. “As for me, I apparently have very strong magic.”

“How strong?” This time Regina, the Queen – but how could she be queen if David was reigning? – had been the one speaking up.

“The strongest, as I understand it. I was born out of True Love, which, I think, is very strong in this realm. And my mother was a Dragonlord, which adds to the magic.”

“I see...” The queen nodded to Emma, who nodded back. “You seem, however, not to be very...aware of that power.”

“I've never used it. Consciously. I didn't even know I had it until two weeks ago. It was quite a shock.”

Emma snorted, a thing that was very unladylike. “Tell me about it.”

Regina smirked. “We will teach you. Emma has had the same...hiccup a few years back, and I taught her. Now, she is even more powerful than I am.”

“When I'm in the mood. Which I am not right now.”

Snow White, across from Seren, rolled her eyes. “Emma...”

“Alright, I'll help, but this girl's mother didn't leave the best of memories in my head!”

Seren was tempted to pry answers off the princess, but a part of her just didn't care. What was in the past stayed in the past. So she merely smirked. “Fortunately for you, I am not my mother. Thank you for the assistance.”

Regina nodded while Emma's grey eyes widened at being shut. “We will see you tomorrow morning, then.”

* * *

A little further the line, Seren learnt that the whole court wasn't usually living altogether, but was gathered for an event: Princess Hope's birthday.

As it was, Regina and her Robin were living in a castle of their own, along with Roland and Henry and Grace sometimes – it had been very confusing to hear that Henry was the son of both Emma and Regina, but as always, she didn't pry.

Red and Jefferson also lived away, and that had Seren's heart constrict a little at the thought that the first person she would have liked in this realm would be away from her soon, leaving her alone in an unknown world.

But, the biggest news of that event was that, in fact, there was going to be a dance.

And Seren didn't hate anything more than dancing.

Which Galahad was really aware of.

* * *

The huge table had been pushed to the side – Seren's eyes had almost got out of their sockets as she witnessed the use of magic of Regina, purple and black – and an orchestra had moved past the guests, settling in one corner, soon starting a melody Seren didn't recognize at once, but that soon proved to be a waltz.

David took his youngest daughter, who was nineteen, as it happened, by the hand and brought her to the centre of the room, one hand on her hip.

The princess was whirling around as gracefully as a swan, weightless and light on her feet.

Something Seren would never be.

Soon, Snow White was brought to the dancefloor by Robin, while Regina was taken by Henry and Grace by Killian. Red pulled her Jefferson to one corner where he could turn on his heels and not knock everyone out with his rash movements. Emma remained sat on the corner of the table, looking perfectly at ease doing nothing.

When Galahad was pulled from his stance by Hope and David took Emma to dance, Seren was left alone.

Or not quite so...

* * *

“My Lady?”

Seren's eyes met those, blue as a pure sky, of the man facing her, his hand outstretched, a teasing smile on his lips, and shook her head vehemently. “No, I don't dance.”

“I'm sure you do. You are a princess too, after all.” He grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward, swallowing her yelp with a chuckle. “I promise I'm not that bad.”

Seren tried, at first, to pry herself from the stranger's arms, but stopped wriggling as soon as she realised that he had been moving her around and twirling her into a perfect circle already, and that she was far from making a fool of herself.

Her hand fell to his shoulder, and he chuckled again. “Told you so. Now,” he leaned forward, as if trying to tell her a secret, “why are you so afraid to dance?”

She sighed, a faint blush covering her cheeks at his proximity. “I was never good at it.”

“Or perhaps you've never had the right partner.”

She was about to answer that he was wrong, but he was in fact right. The way he was making her move, pace, whirl, and bounce around the dancefloor was not magic. He was just a very good partner.

So she smiled shyly. “Maybe. Thank you,...” She had forgotten his name, and his connection to the rest of the family, but fortunately, he was not bothered by the fact.

“Liam. I am Liam.”

“Ah yes, Emma and Killian's son. I remember now. How old can you be?”

In her mouth, the question was genuinely curious. He didn't look much older than her, and not younger that Gad, and she was really curious. Which was not a normal occurrence.

He chuckled. “And why would you want to know?”

She blushed again, averting her eyes so she did not meet his. Across the room, she saw Galahad with Hope, his eyes locked onto her, his brow furrowed, an unknown expression on his face. “Maybe I am just curious.”

Liam chuckled again, then stopped his movements as the melody ended. He leaned down to kiss Seren's knuckles, which sent another blush to her cheeks, then winked. “I am twenty-one, and single as a bird, my lady.”

As he moved away from her, Seren found herself stuttering 'No, that's not what I meant' but he just walked away, joining his mother at the table, while she was hauled next by Prince David who requested a dance of his own – one she managed way worse than the one with Liam.

* * *

The evening stretched and ended, and soon, Seren found herself in her bed, thoughts buzzing in her mind.

First, she was going to have a lesson in magic the following morning and it scared the hell out of her.

Second, she had spent an entire evening in the skin of another, beautiful, desired woman and had liked it, and she wasn't used to being vain.

Third, she had danced. Well. In the arms of a man she barely knew...

And his eyes plagued her dreams.

Eyes so similar to Galahad's in colour, yet so different in the way they looked at her...

* * *

“No, no, you're not focussing enough!”

Seren sighed for the umpteenth time and opened her eyes.

Before her, a good yard away, was standing Regina, clad in her usual black, palms upward, while she stood with a rock in her own hand. Her aim was to move the rock from her to Regina.

And she had failed for the eleventh time.

“I'd really want to succeed, but...I don't know!”

Regina sighed and moved to her. She sported a small disabused smile on her lips, and her eyes darted to Emma, who was sitting on the edge of a fountain, not paying attention. “Seren... You don't know your power, but I can't feel it. Can't you?”

“Sometimes, I think.”

The Queen smiled and put a hand over hers on the rock. “When, and how?”

“In my fingers...when I feel...when I feel...”

“When you feel what?”

“Lost.”

Regina's smile faltered, leaving in its place a sympathetic look. Emma, who had decided to intervene, came to stand by her.

“Regina had anger. And I had instinct. You can have loss, but...it's kinda sad.”

Seren felt a bubble of anger rise into her and glared slightly at the blonde woman. “Thanks for reminding me my life sucks.”

Emma laughed without humour. “You are a little spitfire. No wonder why my son likes you.”

Seren's eyes widened at the confession, and blushed, feeling warmth spread throughout her, from her toes to her fingers.

Regina hissed in pain and jerked back, her hand raising. “You burnt me!” Her eyes then locked to Seren, and she smirked. “What were you feeling right now?”

“Embarrassed?”

Emma and Regina chuckled both, while the younger woman stood, confused. Then the Queen looked over at her former student, and tilted her head. “We have a selfless person in the place.”

“Great. She would just looooooove my sister.” Emma rolled her eyes and disinterested herself from the scene, going back to her seat by the fountain.

Seren looked at Regina. “What does it mean?”

“It means that you are even more than True Love combined with Dragonlord. You are like...a fae.”

“A fae? What's that?”

“Good sorceresses, if you want. They're quite rare. Because of their...habit to be infuriatingly perfect.”

“I don't want to be perfect!”

Regina chuckled. “But you are. Embrace who you are. However it may hurt.” She stepped back, and outstretched her hand again. “Now...move that rock.”

Seren sighed and closed her eyes.

Her thoughts went to her mother first, and that sense of loss she felt whenever she did think of her. Then they went to her father and his bravery and the loss she felt at his death. Then, surprisingly, they went to her uncle, Mordred, and the life she would have had if he had stayed by her side.

And then they drifted. Loss turned to a magnificent shade of blue. Blue as a summer sky. Blue as the colour of Percival's cloak when she trampled with it and dyed it on purpose. Blue...as someone's eyes.

There was a yelp of surprise before her, and Seren knew that the rock had moved.

 


End file.
